


La terre rit dans des fleurs

by lubilu17



Series: I Rebel; Therefore I Exist [1]
Category: Hamilton-Miranda
Genre: All based on caw.chans rebel AU., F/M, Laf and Adrienne's relationship isn't great, M/M, Marijuana, Recreational Drug Use, Underage Drinking, bc that shit is pure gold, theres like drugs and shit, why is tagging so difficult?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 20:11:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11631033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lubilu17/pseuds/lubilu17
Summary: Lilies. White lilies. White lilies against red silk. It was all a twelve year old Lafayette could stare at instead of the ashen face of his mother, stark against blood red silk. White lilies lined the church filling him with a sense of dread. It felt like death was surrounding him.Pink rose, iris, asphodel, daisies, daffodils, lilies. Perfect happiness, hope, regret, loyal love, new beginnings, death.





	La terre rit dans des fleurs

**Author's Note:**

> Based on caw.chan's rebel AU on instagram. Because it is absolutely amazing.  
> http://instagram.com/caw.chan
> 
> This is not great to be honest but eh....
> 
> La terre rit dans des fleurs=The earth laughs in flowers

Lilies. White lilies. White lilies against red silk. It was all a twelve year old Lafayette could stare at instead of the ashen face of his mother, stark against blood red silk. White lilies lined the church filling him with a sense of dread. It felt like death was surrounding him. 

He could feel the eyes of everyone in the church on him as he sat stony faced in the front pew next to his teary eyed grandmother. He shed no tears during her demise why should he be expected to cry now? When she was as cold to touch in death as she was to talk to in life why should he be expected to mourn a parent who was barley in his life? When she had only been in Lafayette's life for the minimum of a year before taking I'll why should he be expected to miss his mother. 

It was as he placed his own lily on the dirt above his mothers body Lafayette started to compare life to a flower, fragile, beautiful, haunting. White lilies, white orchids, white roses started to flower in the garden around the Lafayette estate, slowly making their way into the mansion, flowers of grief, flowers of death. 

Rumours raced around the small town near the estate, rumours that the young Lafayette child had turned into a character from a gothic novel whilst in mourning for his mother and grandfather, with his perfectly tailored suits as black as soot, a single white lily tucked behind his left ear, staring out of the window over the gardens. Gardens which from the village are folds of snow on a summers day. 

At twelve Lafayette knew he was not meant for the public life, not meant to be a marquis, not meant to be the richest orphan in all at France. He had a reputation to live up to as his his grandmother would always remind him of. A reputation which meant he had to learn proper ways to greet nobles. A reputation which meant he had to learn which fork was for which course of the meal. A reputation which meant he had to learn which wines would go with different meals. 

 

At fifteen Lafayette met Adrienne at a ball, the two falling into a clumsy waltz which ended with Adrienne leading Lafayette around the dance floor instead of the other way around. A night Lafayette would remember as the night the white lily of death bloomed into the yellow daffodil of life. The two snuck out of the ball room to one of Adrienne's bedroom with a bottle of Benedictine between the pair. 

One night turned into weeks of meeting each other, sometimes out in public-their courting becoming a story in the local area- most of the times in secret, nights of drinking which more often than not ended with Lafayette with his head between Adrienne's thighs, smiling against her as she threw he head back and moaned, or the two of them sparking with electricity, entwined, shuddering as they came to their climaxes. 

On some rare nights they'd just sit blowing smoke into the air, or each other's mouths, drinking whatever they could get their hands on. They were happy. They were in love. They destroyed each other whilst simultaneously whispering words of endearment against each other's skin.

Lafayette no longer just kept flowers of mourning but daffodils and daisies, flowers of new beginnings and loyal love. 

At nineteen Adrienne invited him to one of her friends parties. Lafayette knew what happened at those parties, he knew of the packets of pills that were passed around between the children of French nobles, more caring of their image than their children. It was at this party where Lafayette fell into bed with someone who was not Adrienne, someone who was as high a Lafayette himself was, someone who's stubble scratched Lafayette's thighs.

It was at nineteen Lafayette added asphodel to his collection of flowers, flowers of regret.

 

At nineteen, in a new country a country who could never know of his mistakes Lafayette met Hercules Mulligan. His hair falling over his forehead like a waterfall, white and red sleeveless jacket reminding Lafayette of the white lilies against blood red silk at a funeral that seemed like a lifetime together. 

They met at a party, not a party like the one he met Adrienne at but a party full of pounding music, plastic cups full of cheap alcohol and couples making out. Hercules had to shout for Lafayette to be able to hear him and even then it was a struggle. With fingers hooked through the mesh of Lafayette's shirt, Hercules pulled their two bodies together, chest to chest, two pairs of dark eyes meeting with such passion Lafayette thought it could cause a fire between the two of them. 

It was as their lips met Lafayette felt like he was finally in the place where he belonged. 

Lilies, daffodils, daisies, asphodel a collection to which iris has now been added to, flowers of hope.

 

At twenty five Lafayette bought an apartment with his boyfriend, Hercules, and two of his friends, Alexander and John. For the first time in his life Lafayette finally felt happy. No, it wasn't perfect, Alex and John spent their time dancing around each other playing a game of feelings. The kitchen felt claustrophobic with four people trying to make breakfast at the same time. Their friends had no sense of privacy and never bothered to call before visiting. But it was home. 

 

At twenty five Lafayette got a tattoo of the flowers that arranged his life. A small, dainty, feminine tattoo on his upper thigh.

Pink rose, iris, asphodel, daisies, daffodils, lilies. Perfect happiness, hope, regret, loyal love, new beginnings, death.


End file.
